


The moth and the ram

by simpacademia



Category: Mothman (Folklore)
Genre: Cryptid OC, Cryptids, Friends to Lovers, I have no shame, I love mothman so much guys, Jewish Character, M/M, Mothman, Rescue, Self-Indulgent, Self-Insert, cryptid, cryptid fucking, ghost hybrid, ram hybrid, twitter persona
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-29
Updated: 2020-12-29
Packaged: 2021-03-11 00:01:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 572
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28415802
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/simpacademia/pseuds/simpacademia
Summary: A local cryptid is chased out of his home and into the forest at Point Pleasent West Virginia. When injured, they're rescued by their idol, the man, the moth, the legend. Mr. Mothman.
Relationships: mothman/Dorian
Comments: 2
Kudos: 5





	The moth and the ram

**Author's Note:**

> If you stumbled upon this I have no words

Fast footsteps could be heard running through the forest, Autumn leaves being kicked up by beaten-down converse. The footsteps were accompanied by pants and desperate gasps trying to inflate burning lungs with the crisp Autumn air of West Virginia. A sterling silver star of David necklace that was attached to a black, leather chord bounced against the soft, black fabric of a sweater. 

Tears fell from pure white eyes and onto skin that was almost pale enough to match. They burned, greatly contrasting the cold air nipping at the boy’s cheeks. Everything hurt. Fire filled his lungs with every breath, inhaling cold air and exhaling a soft cloud of warm breath into the winter’s air. Running was never Dorian’s strong suit but it had to be done. Humans were never kind to those different to them and Dorian had learned that the hard way.

With a shout, the creature was brought out of their thoughts and face-first onto the cold, unforgiving ground. Their ankle twisted as it caught on a branch, a curly horn became tangled with another branch on the ground rendering the cryptid pinned down to the dirt. All the creature could do was let out broken sobs as he thrashed around in a vain attempt to free himself.  
“God damn it I don’t want to die here!” Dorian cried in a broken, frustrated tone to the deaf ears of the forest. No one would rescue him. No human at least.

When Dorian twisted his head a rush of pain coursed through his horn accompanied by a sickening crack. Blood started to pour onto the ground and into his soft, black hair.  
“I’m gonna die here I’m gonna FUCKING DIE HERE.” The hybrid cried, sobbing into the grass below him. It was the end, the wolves would smell the blood they were so fucked.  
“You’re not going to die here.” A quiet, firm voice said from above. Panic surged through every inch of Dorian’s body. He didn’t even hear the person approach. His body tensed as he felt a gentle hand ghost along his horn. It hurt, his horns were now sensitive in more ways than one.  
“Your ankle is also broken… I can fix this.” The voice said once again, snapping the branch that held Dorian down. 

Dorian’s breath caught in their throat as the mysterious man picked him up like he weighed nothing. The man carried him as if he was a bride, close to his chest in a protective manner. All the adrenaline that kept Dorian energetic quickly crashed leaving him in pain and exhausted. He rested his head on the soft body of the mysterious man. He glanced up, heart almost stopping as his own, blank white eyes stared into red ones. His idol, Mothman, had just rescued him. It felt like a dream come true. Surely this was a hallucination.  
“You looked scared,” Mothman said, beginning to walk.  
“I just… I didn’t expect to see you here…” Dorian responded, voice shaking. “You’re my idol.” He whispered. 

Mothman let out what sounded like a chirp mixed with a chuckle, continuing to walk deeper in the forest in silence.  
“Where are we going?” Dorian asked after a moment.  
“My cave. You’re hurt and I don’t think a human could treat your injuries.” Mothman replied, his voice gentle and quiet. 

With that final reply, a wave of exhaustion washed over Dorian. Within seconds the forest faded to black.

**Author's Note:**

> note: my Twitter persona is 18 because holy shit I want to get to college so badly AND I don't want mothman to go to jail


End file.
